Evanescence
by UNKNOWNYMUSE
Summary: She was lost. Her absent memories almost destroyed her if not for his appearance. Something was off. He didn't know why, but somehow the aura of this girl was something mysteriously dangerous, yet, beautiful."
1. Prologue

Going Under

_Maybe I'll wake up for once__  
__Not tormented daily defeated by you__  
__Just when I thought I'd reached the bottom_

_I'm dying again._

* * *

The cold, crisp, wind was leading me into the dark.

The curtains were corresponding with the wind as it sways along to the motion of their dance. The Moon was their witness, as I was their witness.

My feet had started to march before I could perceive of my actions, leading me to my window. By now, it was decorated with frosts and snow. But I had not known that my whole room was decorated by it. How could this be?

And the first thing that I thought was: It is still summer.

I know that it is not my own doing, simply because, I know how to use my gift.

My snow would be delightful to see, and my snowflakes are not haggard and odd, unlike the ones that surrounded me in my room.

And for a moment while I was staring outside at my window, I saw a pair of eyes. Those bloody, scarlet eyes that reminds me of a nightmare when I was a Child. It didn't blink, not for a second or so. I felt heart pounding to its beat as the room felt very... Dark?

It was still looking at me, looking at me with intensity, like somehow it was waiting for something. Something terrible to happen.

I had already drawn out from the window when the eyes blink and vanished. I was not scared, for I know I can protect myself with my advantage. I had searched for that glowing eyes, the dark did helped me a lot.

I felt something cold on my neck. Like fingernails were gripping my very own flesh. It was dreadful, the cold never bothered me, but this kind of coldness sent me to look quickly behind. I didn't say anything, I didn't saw someone.

But that's my error on that part, when I had turned around, all I saw is my furniture and things. And I felt the same petrified feeling that someone is now in front of me. I was hesitant to look ahead, and I had the right to be afraid, because when I slowly ventured my head to look ahead of my path: I saw the same Glowing eyes, only inches off my face.

And that's when I found myself falling into the black. The swirling ache inside my head was unbearable for me to handle and my all I can see is pure blackness. Yet everything is so silent, so muted.

The moment I've opened my eyes, I was not feeling any good and the one simple question on my brain is; where was I?

I was surrounded by a mass halo of snow, blizzard of sort, and gushes of angry windstorm was strong enough for me to flutter away.

I embraced myself; it was cold, unbearably cold.

Just then, I heard a distant voice; it was soft and silky, it was singing. Somehow it's meant for me, to lure me.

And my body did respond.

My foot found its own way to march further into somewhere. It had no problems on the terms of walking and I was horrified because I hadn't known I was walking on a frozen path.

The Fjord.

So that meant I am outside of my palace.

I wanted to scream with all my might when I was now heading to a hole on the fjord. I had no control of myself. I cannot stop the celerity within me. The blizzard only got stronger, with my powers in it.

I know what will become of me when my foot would go on walking, walking furthermore to the trap.

I force myself, my lungs and my voice to be heard, to escape and for someone to hear me.

But nothing came. Just sheer nothingness.

Then my feet stopped. I stopped. I saw the hole was already underneath me.

I was falling.

Falling down to that hole; to a shallow of oblivion.

Where death can take its toll on me.

Falling so fast, yet felt so slow.

You can feel your motion at its slowest depth as it fell to the very dirge of hell.

A pair of cerulean, sky, blue eyes fluttered quickly. She was breathing heavily and needed air. That wasn't much of a problem, because she is surrounded by air.

A dream.

She felt the harsh pang on her head, Just a Dream.

She clutched herself firmly as if shivering, but how can she know the feeling if shivering if she can't even feel the cold or the frozen ground she slept on. The same place to where she'd first woken up.

She can't even remember of how she got here. Not even her identity. All she knew is she's been lost and alone, and afraid.

She stared at the infinite sky, where the moon was beaming with moonbeams. It's been the same dream; she was thoughtful for a moment.

What are you trying to say?

A dream so lucid. A chromatic chain of unusual events... It seems like a memory, so tortured, and dark.

She closed her eyes and listened to the gossiping wind, _"Just a Dream."_


	2. Chapter 1

Whisper

_Fallen angels at my feet__  
__Whispered voices at my ear__  
__Death before my eyes__  
__lying next to me I fear__  
__She beckons me__  
__shall I give in._

* * *

Everything was quiet. Not a sound intact. Yes, it is quiet. Too quiet for a normal day. In which he suspects that it wasn't safe. He inhaled mutely, Danger is coming.

He scoops an amount of snow unto his hand, some bits were falling down. He took a breath and releases it near the snow powder; it magically turns into a perfect snowball.

He slowly crept and looked around with attentiveness. Without hesitation, he lunged forward the snowball behind the bulging rock. A loud yelp of surprise and snickering had transcended into the quiet atmosphere.

"Jack!"

He mischievously grinned.

Then a few kids and pre-adolescent children rushes out of their hiding places and each threw snowballs from different kinds of direction.

The young man, whose hair shone like the snow on the ground, was dodging and aiming snowballs to the faces of his victims. Every one of them has different groups and called it as The Battle.

More or so hours had gone by when one of the children's parents called out and said it was time for supper. And little by little the ratio of children was decreasing; only the Bennett boy and the white haired boy remained, laughing and tossing each other snowballs.

"Jamie!" the boy's mother shouted over the window, "Time to go to bed!"

The boy groaned in displeasure.

"Hey, cheer up bucko; don't you want to see Sandy?" Jack said, earning a wide, toothy grin from the boy. Jack messed the boy's hair before nodding towards the boy's house.

"Goodnight Jack!" Jamie waved and opened the backdoor to his home.

Jack swings his staff back and forth, his foot made crunching noise like the sound of Doritos, as his foot were stepping the snow, while he was walking around the neighborhood.

A paper happened to slap him on the face.

He stopped, good thing no one saw the look on his face, and held the paper; Missing.

He's the 4th to go missing this week. Jack scanned the paper as the picture of a young boy, grinning a toothy smile with a bold print beneath his head that said **'have you seen Jonathan?'**

Jack felt the sympathy to these missing children, and to their parents. Jack wondered the reaction of his mom when she learned Jack's death. He hopes he could have at least prevented it.

He is the Guardian of Fun, not safety.

He galloped in midair. Flying to every variety of houses, no one's going to see me anyway.

After a few stunts and pranking unaware citizens (Especially to a guy whose tongue was stuck within the pole) he found himself bored. Guardianship could be a little unadventurous when you're alone. Mostly. He'd succumbed to the 'I'm so lonely' blues, something he usually feel.

While Nighttime was further, a little flicker has turned gold then little by little it becomes big. Different lines were connected to each perspective, so many sleeping children. He stood on the electrical wire and watch as their dream plays along in visual of gold's. "Nicely done, Sandy." he greeted and the pudgy, little man tip his makeshift Fedora with his dream sand.

By the time he was indeed worn out (From boredom) Jack decided to just gaze at the sky.

He had spotted a large oak tree, heavily coated in snow, but still sat at one of its branches. He used his arms as his pillow, while he stared at the gloomy sky. He was intoxicated by the idea of sleeping and at last his eyes finally give up.

A girl with the same auburn color of his hair, padded cheerfully and happily as she can. Jack ran after her, resembling the mirth she has. Come get me, her tiny voice resounded in his ears when she ducked behind a pine tree.

Jack acted out not to see her, even when he already saw her from her obvious cover. He silently went up behind her, unbeknown to the giggling little girl.

Raising up his hands as quickly place it upon her shoulder.

Her giggling stopped.

Jack was confused when she didn't bother to move. At all. Then their background turned into a black; with her back still facing him. It was a dead silent-it was unknown.

There were the only ones there.

She finally moves into a slow motion. Stirring her head behind to see his widening eyes. Jack quickly dropped his hands off her when He saw her eyes; blank eyes which does not Represent a child. It was all black; her irises were dilated, literally black. "Emma?" he shakily asks.

However, she only stared. Mouth slightly open and face so pale. This girl does not resemble his sister.

Her body started to March to her unknown direction, as if there was something leading her to it. "Emma!" he called after her. Still, she remains marching, not hearing his pleas.

_Help. _

_Please. _

A voice.

A different voice called out from a direction.

He jerked up his head as he saw nothing but a phantom voice. From the corner of his eyes, he saw his sister still moving in a timorous, phlegmatic pace.

_Somebody! _

_Help me! _

He couldn't decide to follow who. But Emma needs to snap out of it. And that voice, he really wants to follow it. He finally ran after Emma.

_Why?_

Jack hastily sat up, eyes wide open, frantic and bewilderment.

He didn't know if it was a dream, nightmare perhaps, or somebody's voice calling out for help. Calling out to him.

_Help. _

What the?

He shook his head and laughed at his own expense, now you're imagining things like soft voices.

A Soft, melodious, pitiful, broken voice that sounds so real. So troubled.

So intense.

The whispers were there, he knew it. He didn't know what it was, or what it meant. Is he just hallucinating?

He sat right up and had lost the feeling of drowsiness, of course, which wouldn't? It was the same dream that's been alive since winter started. Did Sandy know about this? He's the dream maker; everything related to dreams is his thing. Maybe he'll ask later.

And his sister's odd behavior. Sure it was dream, but it was so real-like. Oh, Emma. He really misses her so much. He even wondered if Jamie is a kin of her bloodlines -because of their similarities- There was an attachment with this boy that Jack grew fond of.

He settled to some wandering around, he hadn't much to do, he thought about pissing off Bunnymumd, but decide against it; it's too tedious to go all over to Australia. Baby Tooth is accompanying Toothiana to some wild tooth hunt, Kids nowadays using rocks to throw at some playmates, who does that? The world has gone nuts. He remembered the time when kids, or adolescents like him, play every game, without using any technologies or whatsoever. He can't blame today's generation; it was all part of the systematic time.

When he was done arguing with himself, he positioned his staff on the ground, maybe he should go to New York, "Wind! Take me to..." Mexico? Hawaii? North Korea? "Somewhere remarkable."

It didn't hesitate to take him up to the sky. Though the ride was a bit quirky, it was fast, it was fearsome. It wasn't like this at all; maybe he should console Manny to give him a new staff.

Without his staff, he's quite vulnerable on the situation of flying.

He grips his staff tightly, as if he might fall down to oblivion. He doesn't know to where the wind was taking him, and that made him slightly freaked out. It was the first time he close his eyes because he was perplexed to see the odd surroundings.

It took not a half 5 minutes or less before he realize that everything was calm.

Then it stopped.

He stopped.

Everything stopped.

He opened his right eye first, White, he saw everything was clearly white, then the second one, still white. He thought he was blind for a minute but then he realized it was snow. No green land, no nothing, just Snow.

And the ground wasn't just some ground, it was frozen. Ice-cold and Frozen.

_**Help! **_


	3. Chapter 2

Your Star

_Why can't you feel me calling your name?_

_Can't break the silence, it's breaking me_

* * *

"Wow." he said, taking few steps and looking around to a very snowy coated ground. "Where am I?" sure, myself would answer me. The supposed Fjord is frozen solid, everything was blanketed with pure snow and the gloomy, night sky made the surroundings more subversive.

_Help!_

He heard the same voice. Surely he wasn't dreaming, nor did he?

The voice isn't real! For goodness sake. I'm must be really dreaming.

He pinched himself over and over by the arm, "It doesn't feel like a dream." he certainly felt the cold ground on his foot, but was used to the cold anyway, it's his forte.

He wasn't sure if he'll walk around. The ground is actually frozen solid; him walking around would freeze the ground more. Jack brought his staff up to his face, "Hey, Why'd you bring me here? I didn't cause this, did I?" his question was left unanswered as his focus was solely on the raining snow.

"What happened in here?"

He wasn't the one to blame. Well... he did like to damp any green land into a white, frozen winter-wonderland. Per say, He caused a blizzard of '68 on Easter Sunday. Bunnymumd didn't take the joke too kindly.

He couldn't cause a disaster like this.

The blizzard was hazardous and nobody would ever live here, unless if you're committing suicide of Hypothermia.

He strolled around like a tourist, curious to this particular, unfamiliar place. It's crazy for winter, alright.

In the middle of the frozen ground was a shadow. He went further to see that shadow, until he saw a bright sort of light,

Or was it a hair?

And of course, there she was, probably letting herself to freeze; he widened his eyes when she still did not move, or provably dead of the pure coldness.

So peaceful, serene, calm and so lonesome.

Somehow it transcends this place to her liking. She was having this same dream, so vivid and unnatural. She knew inside in her heart that she didn't know herself. No name, no history. But something was forcing her to know, to unravel, and to wander. I know I'm lost, please, find me a way to discover who I am.

She hugged herself, resting her head on her kneecap, arms folded on her legs. She's been like that for hours; thinking, and thinking, and thinking.

_The sky's awake! _

The recurrence of somebody's voice, it was familiar but forgotten. Who was it? Sometimes when she closes her eyes, she wondered about a castle, people, and a girl. Still she can't remember, that's the hindrance to why she couldn't come back home.

She was lost.

_So I'm awake!_

"Hey?"

A new voice.

"Hey? Little girl?"

It's like he's near. That voice is somewhat very near, so real, so...

"What am I saying? She **can't** see me!"

Then that voice's laughter made her head to look up, if there's somebody actually talking to her.

And there he was.

Blue eyes.

Jack was physically surprised. This girl is alive. Or at least he thought, maybe he's dreaming again. But she couldn't possibly be a dream, her features is more of a human. She's realistic.

And one thing though: She's not a little girl.

Jack watched her stood up, and they both stared at each other's face.

Her hair was swaying with the wind, that platinum hair that as almost the same color of the snow, almost like his, was in disarray. The pale face, so surreal, so mystical, and so beautiful. Yep, I'm dreaming.

But then her eyes.

So full of questions, so peculiar, yet so blank. The void in her irises was difficult to analyze. It was like a barrier of sorts, like something painful is hidden in those blue eyes.

_Blue Eyes. _

Those deep blue eyes that's been staring at her for minutes. She was scared. She didn't know what was real or not. He was barefooted; did he not felt the cold? Is he like me?

His hair of white that could almost blind you if it were to reflect the sun. The staff he's carrying. Is he a sheepherder?

He slowly reached out for her hands as she did the same.

She was the first to back out; He is real.

She was cold. Not unlike the normal coldness of the ice, snow, or everything 0' Celsius. But she is unnaturally cold. The intensity of clemency of her touch was unrecognizable.

"You are real" her voice was barely a whisper, like she's convincing more on to herself than talking to him.

"So are you." he said.

Just by looking at her, he somehow was entrance by this maiden, the way she tilted her head innocently, like she was finding the answers. His eyes popped so big and mouth hung outside, realization hit him like a brick. For the fact that she could actually see him had made his day. I got myself a grownup believer!

She step up further to him, now, she is indeed beautiful. The moonbeam was radiating her pale skin, it suited her though. The determination on her face that suggests conformity and peremptory.

Seeing her made him realize that this trip isn't bad as the weather here.

"I'm Lost."

* * *

The meekness of her sniff made him overcome with guilt.

The eerie ticking off the clock thundered the room, giving him the feeling of being lock up inside a void. It was like this for hours; convincing every worried parent that their child/children were safe. He even doubted himself for saying it.

He pushed the roll of new tissues for the woman to take. "Uh, Mrs. Jenkman, I know it is hard for you to handle the disappearance of Tony. But we're trying our best to find him." he sighed, "And the others."

After few minutes of talking to her with utmost concern and vowing to find Tony, she left at last.

He can't stand the look on their faces. He isn't a jerk really; he can't take the grieving look on them, with their eyes' red and their hope fading away.

He Grab his pen and scribbled on the notepad.

"Boss?" a sharp knock on his door, "Another call."

"Again?" he asked in disbelief.

He needn't to hear the reply. It made him sick. He put down the pen, stood from his chair and opened the door. His friend, Fred, managed to smile a little "How's goin' with The Jenkman kid?"

"Still the same."

Fred handled him stacks of folders, "He's the first one, isn't he?"

He only nods. Each folder contains picture of a child with their name and address; Cynthia Merger, Age 4, Mason Troy Gilligan, Age 6, Bettina Cooper, Age 10, Elysia Thropp, Age 9, Frankie Ste- "How long he's been missing?" asked Fred.

He sighed. The same sickening knot on his stomach returned, "4 weeks ago."

* * *

"Thank you, again."

"Nah, it's okay."

Jack didn't say anything when he saw her force a smile, a smile that held sadness.

Moments ago, she revealed to him that she's missing and can't find her way home. He obliges to help her.

They're walking to an unknown forest, to god knows where. His staff wasn't any good, he kept muttering to it to take them away, but his beloved staff was resisting. To all timings, why now?

The girl could only stare at him in a skeptic way when she saw him and heard him cursing at his staff.

_We've got to play! _

_**Elsa!**_

_What have you've done?! _

_**Elsa!**_

_Monster! _

_**Elsa!**_

_I'll be right here!_

_**Elsa!**_

"Whoa! Are you okay?" she had already stumbled on the snowy ground, clutching her head that's giving her blurry and spinning visions. Voices. It was the same voices. Who were they calling? Who are they?

Different voices with different emotions.

He kneeled beside her to support her to stand up. "I-I'm ...Fine" she convince him. However, he wasn't convinced at all. For the fact that she was muttering silently for the past couple of hours; the way she twirl with her fingers, and the absent stare she, sometimes make when she thought of something.

"Are you?"

"Of course."

Yep, she's definitely hiding something.

And he aims to find out.

She was peculiar.

He was astonished to her immunity to the cold.

The snow was knee-deep, and her dress really puts his hoodie to shame. Here he was, personification of winter, while his company was just a lost girl, wearing a nightdress.

Yes, a nightdress. How can she not be dead? Maybe she's a ghost? But she looks very much real.

Although, the design of her nightdress was different from any other (Not that he peeks at ladies nightdress) it was a bit conservative. It was long, down to her ankles, and sleeves all down to her wrist, ending by ruffles (You should see the other nightdress women wears today.) but unlike this one, it was very formal. So ladylike.

The linings were tolerable, and the neckline was concealable enough to cover her brea-he quickly averted his eyes as hers caught him oozing at her ..."Uh, Yeah, so, Uh, Hi." he wanted to slap his reddening face.

He cleared his throat to avenge his embarrassment, "So, Uh, I didn't catch your name."

**I don't know. **

The sentence she wanted to say. But haven't got the guts to tell him the truth; that her memory left her for good and she barely knows herself. She was really happy that she got to leave that havoc of a place, the Fjord. But she couldn't question him to why or how he got there.

Personally speaking, she didn't know to why or how she got there too.

I need a name.

Not just a name but her memory.

He must've been waiting for her answer. The strange look in his eyes that definitely wasn't holding any patience. "My name is..." she trailed off.

He was staring at her in the most observant stare. Like how she thought of a deeper sentence. There is something about this odd beauty that he can't put a name on. Although, he was glad that he could see how she concentrate. She is so...divine.

Yet he still wonders to her origins.

"Elsa." without any conviction, she proudly said. Inside in her chest where the battle of emotions resides: Shame, which tore her every fiber that she actually stole that name from somebody else's. From a voice. Whereas, Happiness, couldn't care about her guilt. She was happy to have a name, even its fake. Just like a rebirth to her unknown existence.

A brand new identity.

Elsa.

The Strange girl's name is Elsa. Jack let it linger to his lip, her name, Elsa. The name suited her. It was uncommon and something about nobility.

"What about you?"

"What about me?"

"What is your name?"

Jack nearly stumbled from the hidden snow bunk or maybe from her question. "Don't you know me?"

"Can't say that I do."

"You," he pointed at her, "Don't know me?" he asked in exaggerated disbelief. What the hell was that? How come she sees me? If she doesn't know me? Is she playing some insulting game?

She raised an eyebrow and crossed her arms, "_My_, You are egotistic."

"It's not that! You really don't know this?" he gestured to himself, particularly to his staff.

"Wait... oh!" she snapped her fingers and a wild look on her face. Jack exhaled in relief. Finally.

"You are a shepherd boy!" Jack grimaced.

"I'm Jack Frost." he dryly said.

_There was once a spirit named Jack Frost_

_He likes to have fun_

_He likes to play games_

_No younger than a boy, No older than a man_

_However, if kids were bad_

_He turns them into a snowman_

_Don't let him be mad_

_For his icy shot-_

_"Papa, is he like me?"_

_"Yes, dear, a lot like you."_

_"Am I bad too?"_

_"No. You aren't. Every bits of goodness is within you. Don't ever forget that."_

"Jack Frost." she said. The voices. It was like they're telling her, connecting her with their conversations.

She looked up to see him staring intensively at her, only her. Those deep blue eyes. It's so strange.

And snowflakes. Each in his irises. Is that even normal?

She'd noticed that he's leaning against her. She didn't stop him, until their lips are exactly an inch away. She grasps the tree behind her. Unknown to his intention, she closes her eyes. His pine scent reaches into her olfactory. What will he do?

"I'm Jack Frost." Then she felt a soft nip on her nose.

* * *

**UKNOWNYMUSE: Hullo let me recollect my thoughts...okay. **

**If you're wandering about the story, it is NOT an A.U. It has some kind of connection and just let the story unfold. **

**Disclaimer: I Do NOT own any of these characters, IF I do, I would've hire Spielberg to film a Crossover. **

**And by the way, If you see references, then kudos to you (*****ﾟｰﾟ****) v **


	4. Chapter 3

12:38 AM.

He can't seem to fall asleep.

The eerie wind was slapping him on his cheek, despite the windows were closed.

Darkness was all around, except for the moonbeams plastering against the floor.

Little Peter couldn't sleep at all.

He would've tossed and turned on his bed. When drowsiness couldn't succumb to his state, he went to the window and watches the blinking lights of the lamplights.

The night was cold. He would've understood because of winter, like Miss Darling told them about snow and snow angels. But it wasn't just the cold he constantly felt. It was like the tiny hair on his arms and neck was able to stand up; like someone is watching him.

He couldn't tell mommy that something's bothering him. Not now.

The last time he told mommy that a black pony with funny eyes were outside the street in the middle of the night, was enough to give him a whipping. He wasn't lying, but mommy never believed in him.

Not since the baby came into the picture.

It was all about the baby.

Everyone thought of her like a pure angel. Six year old Peter couldn't understand it, she only does three things; Cry, poop and eat. If not, Poop, eat and cry. Every day for couple of hours. He wondered if he did the same thing as a baby. Did mommy love me before?

He bit his tongue in a manner of dismissing his tears. No, I will not cry. Mommy hates it when I cry.

Peter stepped out from the window when he heard a soft whisper. It didn't come from his mother's room, downstairs, but instead he heard it from the wind.

He silently went to his bed. He ignored the unusual sounds in the night, every night. At first he was scared to hear someone was calling out to him. But by now, it was all but a soothing noise to him.

Little Peter couldn't sleep at all.

He blinked three times and counted fat, little, white sheep. But still, his eyes were wide open and something inside of him lingers a reason. "Shadow!" he almost gasped as he straight up on his bed. His little hands searched frantically on the bed and below the bed.

His dear Shadow was missing.

Little Peter padded on the floor with his two anxious feet.

He went by the end of his room where a chest was sitting, waiting to be opened.

He hastily unlocked it and saw nothing, where his other toys should be.

A known screeching has entered in his ears from the distance.

She was wailing again. He covered both of his ears with his little hands. Shut up, Peter thought.

Something hit him inside his mind, Of course! He angrily stomped but soon quieted. I can't wake mommy.

He opened his door and step up on the corridor.

She took Shadow like she took his other toys! He said to himself. Since she was born all she did was take everything away, leaving him with zilch. Even the love of his mommy.

And now his beloved and only Friend, Shadow.

It was given to him by Granny, a year ago before she died. Peter has loved her so much.

She reads him adventure stories with young boys and swords; pirates and mermaids, a queen with ice power and pixies and pixie dust. She was the best. But her death caused him a strong sadness to live in his heart.

"He's a lot like you, don't you think? He's your shadow." Granny said when she saw his face with pure delight upon seeing his toy twin on his 5th birthday. It was a doll, a boy rag doll, having similarities to him. His red hair, button eyes and a smile; it all resembles to him. Granny had sewn it like a p

His smile increases to a wide one, "Shadow!" he decides to name it because it really looks like him. A Shadow indeed.

And now, that toy is gone. It was the only memory he had with his Granny and now it's gone, vanished with her.

Little Peter fought the tears that was slipping from his eyes. I'm not a cry baby!

He stopped in his track when he reached his destination. The door was decorated with pink flowers and eerie girl designs, and he hated it. It's his little Sister's room.

He didn't hear the wailing of neither his sister nor the sound of her. It was much muted. The air turned to draft and his armpit was sweating.

He silently peeked through the keyhole as if knowing that his mommy was inside. He didn't see her though, he didn't saw anyone, and anything at all. It was all red.

He wanted to back out there and then, and ran as fast as his little legs could carry him. It's very strange and scary to be out of his room, in the end of the hallway.

No! Shadow is in there! He balled up his little fist and showed courage to himself. He gently pushed the door, leading him into a dark and silent path.

There were no red lights and any of those sorts inside. Maybe he's imagining things in his head. It was all black that collided with a ton of silhouettes.

Little Peter tried to grasp any of the objects on his way through the crib. His mind only yelled to find Shadow and get out of the dark, cold room.

He felt the little hair on his neck was sprouting up, and he didn't like it. He can't put up the feeling like someone was touching the back of his neck. He looked behind him to see nothing but darkness.

Until a bump on his chest was painful for him to look ahead and saw the cause of it.

He nearly stumbled on the ground but he quickly avoided it by clinging to the handle of the crib.

Little Peter gripped his chest while looking scornfully at the sleeping babe.

He blamed her for stealing his toys, his mommy, his Shadow, his everything.

She was sleeping so comfortable that he tilted his head in frustration; didn't she cry earlier?

He pulled out the covers off her to search for his Shadow. There was nothing. He pinched her two times lashing out his anger towards her, while the third one was so bitter she finally cooed and cried.

Alarmed and fully awake, Little Peter put the baby onto his frail arms as he swayed it with his false tender, fearing for his mother's wrath.

"Shut up you," he told the sniffling baby.

"I'm gonna be in a lot of trouble if you won't hush up!" the baby seems to listen to him when she stopped and curiously stared at his face. He frowned in distaste. "You won't fool me like you've fooled everyone, you stealer!"

Yet the baby still looked at him.

Peter couldn't understand why, but she's looking at him, looking at him with her blank eyes. She didn't make any movements and that scared him.

His hands were beginning to shake all of the sudden. The baby still stared.

He heard some gentle voices, but that didn't stop him from shaking. The sounds swayed with his ears, his feet were vibrating like he wanted to lie down and sleep, sleep for the rest of his life.

The baby still stared.

His feet were slowly walking on its own accord. It hurts so badly, yet he didn't cry nor screamed in pain.

He's still holding the baby on his arms, like her cradle.

He was walking further to the window, the now opened window. It was never open when he first came inside the room. His mother didn't want any birds peeking and pecking at the Angel of the house and decided to let the window sealed close.

It was never open.

The angry wind was slapping him again on his cheeks, leaving them with frosts. His movements were a lot faster, but the baby still stared at him, blankly.

As soon he was near the window, the winds stopped. The curtains stopped dancing and he felt it was harder to breathe.

The ticking off the clock was loud and when its 7th tick, he raised his hand with the baby and it dawned on him. He was going to drop the baby.

Tears spilled on his face.

No, it mustn't be this way. Sure, he hated the baby in absolute, but she's still his sister. His sweet little sister, that does nothing but poop, eats and cry.

He tried so hard to not to let go.

He fought for control with his very well.

Little Peter thought of his Granny; her wonderful stories and even when she flicks his left ear with her words of wisdom.

The thought of Granny suddenly brought back a little courage to him. He could feel his arms again, Do not let Fear strike your heart, his hands on the baby. He stood on the ledge of the window to fully fight for his control.

Until little by little, He got full control and embraced the baby. He watered down happy tears as he kissed the baby's forehead. "You're safe."

But the baby still stared, with the most unusual eyes.

And that same gentle voice flowed inside his ears, like it's just beside him.

They're still not safe.

It wasn't over either.

He wanted to look behind, and there he did. What he saw was a shock to him that he lost balance.

The last thing he heard was a sweet voice singing to him the sweetest song ever. He could remember his mommy singing him like that. Like how his dear mommy sings when he was put to bed.

The cruel wind was always with him, he noticed. He was surrounded by it.

And with the baby in his arms, the last person he wanted to be with. He almost laughed at the silliness.

Little Peter is falling from the window with his little sister.

* * *

UKNOWNYMUSE:

**DISCLAIMER.**

**I DON'T OWN THE CHARACTERS, LITTLE PETER AND THE BABY. PLEASE -_- IF I DO OWN THEM, I'VE ALREADY NEGOTIATED WITH DISNEY AND DREAMWORKS.**

**Btw, Sorry for the very much late update. Got stuck on Lala Land.**


	5. Chapter 4

Eternal

_I've woken now to find myself_  
_In the shadows of all the lie I've created_  
_I'm longing to be lost in you_  
_(away from this place I have made)_  
_Won't you take me away from me_

* * *

The department was buzzing with busy officers, cuffed criminals and sitting, teary eyed parents. Only one stood out from the rest, her hair was gaining attention.

A man came, marching his way to her, with his usual fur boots clamping on the tile floor. He eyed her up and down, before sitting on his chair. "What seems to be the problem, Miss?" while sipping on his coffee mug.

"My brothers are missing." she normally said.

He grips the mug and puts it down. Another brothers' missing. "Names?" he opened his notepad.

"Harry, Howell, and Harold. Triplets, age 6." And from that, she told him of their disappearance was of the other yesterday. They were playing hide-and-go-seek, and minutes later she couldn't find them. So much for their hiding.

"So they've been missing for 2 days and a half. Why didn't you come here sooner?"

"I'm here now." the tone in her voice was a lot like irritation before putting on a strange smile, showing her pearly teeth. "And besides, my brothers can be wild and handful. I didn't mind them to be gone for a day, maybe they went to the zoo, again, but when I searched for them, they weren't there."

He stared at her for a good 2 minutes. "What do you mean by 'again'?"

"They always try to free the bear. I don't know why. They get a lot of trouble." she breathed deeply, "Anything else?"

The man nodded. Without further analysis, He beckons her to stand up, "That'll be all, ma'am. We're holding a search group for the other missing children and I'll squeeze your brothers' right in the hunt."

The young woman stood up, "You're not gonna question me about their appearances?"

The man shook his head, "Nah. They're triplets. It's easy to see the resemblance and I might have saw their face somewhere." he folded the paper and stack them inside a drawer. "Have a good day, Miss Dùbron."

She kept still, "I didn't tell you my last name."

He smiled, "You lived across from my apartment. It's easy to remember a girl like you."

* * *

"So you're a winter spirit?"

"Yeah." Jack nodded possibly for the seventh times as her question more about him. How come she didn't know him? And can see him at the same time? His own question was unanswered.

Maybe she's a psychic. The kind which can see any supernatural beings.

They've been walking after his little guessing game on her had failed. He successfully nipped her nose. But the girl still couldn't know his mythical legend.

Although it was a win-win for him upon seeing the look on her face when he leaned on to her and when she closed her eyes, he almost thought that she was the likeness of a snow angel.

"Did you hear that?" she lightly nudges him on his arm.

All was silent until a noise somewhere in the trees made growling screeches.

"Wolves."

"Should they be hibernating?"

"Yes and no. These particular beasts are different kind of breed. Otherwise as Gray wolves." Elsa nearly jumped. How'd she know that? It's like her words are coming out from another mouth.

Jack thought about it. Wolves. Alive. Elsa. Not hibernating. Hunting.

Hunting for a gullible prey.

"Elsa! We gotta go." he took hold of her hands, dragging her and her feet along to some direction he didn't know.

They heard the growls echoed through the frozen trees. Jack thanked the faiths that he was blessed without any shoes. And he thanked them because Elsa wasn't wearing any shoes or slippers either. It was easy for them to run freely on the hard powder.

She could feel the flakes on her foot as she was being dragged, yet she didn't really felt the harshness of the cold. Foots were crushing the powdery snow; the sound was invigorating, like the crumpling of a crisp parchment on her hand. She remembered the feeling of its touch, the sound as she tossed the paper and falling on the ground. She silently giggled when she realizes it was indeed a memory of hers.

Jack squinted his eyes for better description. The fog was beginning to thicken and shallow from the snowy ground to show off their parallelism. He stopped when his left feet did not felt the snowy pavement. "Damn." he murmured as he backed out micrometers away from the cliff.

He let go of her hand. Elsa tried not to look disappointed. Truth be told, Elsa was beginning to feel his hand, warming her cold one. And not just that but the solid grip as if he'd never wanted to let go.

"What is it?" she asked him. The furrow look on his face was new, he's been smirking and smiling like any vain idiot, but now, no joy was detected. Nothing at all.

At last, his blue eyes looked at hers. The seriousness was rubbing on his pale face when he stretches out his hand. Elsa lightly tilted her head with confusion. "Do you trust me?" he asked.

She looked at him with many unspoken questions. What did he mean?

Elsa looked behind him and saw nothing in particular. It was much dimmed. And it shocks her to notice it was the end of the land they're stepping on. "Have you gone mad?" she remained calm despite the horrible preposition.

"I can fly."

"Are you now?"

"Sometimes." he shrugged.

She looked at him with difficulty. Her life in the hands of this stranger?

"It's me or the wolves?" already sensing her addle, Jack kept his hand raised up, "You can trust me."

Without any minutes lost, he was receiving by her soft hand on him, "I know."

Jack momentarily gleamed by her new found credence. He put her hands around his neck while he grips his staff. "Don't let go." he whispered to her ears.

The pine scent really got good on her nose. His words trickled her and beyond. She replied him with her simple whisper "Don't _you_ let go."

After that, Jack jumped off with her.

He prayed to Manny very eagerly to save them, or at least only her. The damned staff wasn't corresponding. Is it even possible to a spirit to die? If yes, he's still lucky that he's with her.

With the blackness nearly succumbing their falling, the thought of dying has let his mind to wonder.

Well, What the hell?

* * *

The Grand hall was neatly decorated with splendor and reds.

The big, pine tree was already been cut few weeks ago by the yetis. It was now being process of decoration by the small, twinkling elves galloping and swaying merrily with the old happy song of Jingle bells.

The large room is on full alert with activities as the yetis work with the children's gift. One was forced to recolor the hundred set of red toy robots into blue toy robots. Phil was murmuring heavenly sayings to the man locked inside his private room.

And to this private room was decorated with toys and garlands sprayed on the wall, ceilings and floor. It was the kind of any child's dream room.

However, when you walked in to that door, you can sense the strange depressing air.

It was really strange for a room of the Guardian of Wonder, himself.

Papers, scrolls and notes were lying on the red carpeted ground. It was very messy. He was staring at the window, at the moon. He wasn't aware of the chaos surrounding him in his own quarters.

North held his own hand behind his back while standing firm and rooted.

It was dark outside. Snow and Darkness really suit up together, but with malice.

In a week, Christmas shall come. Children will rejoice and hopefully some would return.

Deep in his gut he knows there will be danger. But what?

He wouldn't want to alarm the others of his notion just because his belly had sensed a terrible foreshadowing.

North already has spoken to the Moon about it, but he was received with nothing. He wasn't surprise by the lack of counsel, Manny is well... Manny.

The Tsar is really a silent man, much muted than Sandy.

But the same tugging feeling that the moon was somehow absent.

Not by appearance but by connection.

North inhaled so much air that night; he swore a mass of halo is already residing inside his mind.

The scenery on his window lingers a thought back with the Snow and darkness.

They blended so much that it should be forbidden by nature.

Snow.

Yet a name he'd not expected to ask for the couple of months, _where is Jack Frost?_

* * *

UKNOWNYMUSE:

I DO NOT OWN THE TITLES AND THEIR LYRICS. CREDITS TO MY FAVORITE BAND "EVANESCENCE"


	6. Chapter 5

Lacrymosa

_Now that you're gone,_  
_I feel like myself again._  
_Grieving the things I can't repair and willing..._

* * *

Jack never felt the impact; or so he thought.

But he felt the wind and its humidity.

Jack finally opened his eyes and saw he was at the top of the starry sky. With Elsa resting on his back.

He laughed: thanking and cursing his staff at the safe time for being so untimely and unexpected.

While he was gallivanting freely in the sky, he wasn't aware that his companion was still closing her eyes shut. With the act of her gripping the back neckline of his hoodie.

"Hey, it's okay." her ears perked up upon hearing his gentle voice. She wasn't exactly sure if she's truly alive, maybe this is the place where souls go.

"Hey Elsa, Open your eyes." he still said.

This time, Elsa was definitely aware of the fabric she's been clutching to.

She fluttered open her eyes and found herself gazing with other blue eyes.

She's pretty, Jack thought. But saying that sounds like so underrated. There was magic somehow inside of her, like this is an ethereal dream for him.

Only this dream was more beautiful.

Elsa blinked. "We're not dead?"

Jack couldn't contain himself from chuckling at her wonderful innocence. "Did I disappoint you?"

"No." She heaves a breath, then suddenly, she forcefully grasp him by his neck and arm "Good Lord! You're flying! We're flying! This can't be happening! I'm dreaming!"

"Better believe it or things would be tougher."

"What?"

Jack shook his head and motioned her to trust him. He can't still put a finger to HOW can she see him if she's still doubtful of him? Well, at least she could see him though.

On his back, he could feel that she's slowly relaxing. Her head resting peacefully on his back. Good thing she can't see his face right now, it was either crimson red or anxiously sweating despite of the cold air.

"I've always felt I wanted to fly, you know." She solemnly said. Her eyes casting below, seeing clouded fogs and cold mists "It's like soaring way up in the sky where you could be anyone -or just be you." _Even if I don't know myself_ "To be free."

"To be free." Jack pronounced again. He wasn't going to tell her the lonely feeling of flying, alone. The memories of love ones playing on his mind while he's up in the sky. Yes, he's free, yes; he loved every bit of it but Happy? No, he wasn't exactly sure.

He saw another snowy cliff, and he felt his trusted cane slowly galloping. Elsa must have felt it too because he felt the tight grip on him again. Not now.

His flying was going berserk and he prayed that the other side of the mountain could get any closer. "Jack?"

"We're not falling down." He assured her.

Elsa believed him.

And she was right to believe him; the comeback of Snow on her foot calmed her. They're on the ground. If not for her proper action, she would've kissed the ground and kissed Jack.

**What?**

"Told you." he smirked at her. He notices her change of color; she was as red as any tomato. "Hey, you alright?" He simply moves his hand to touch her forehead, only for her to grab it and backed away.

"I'm alright, thank you." she wanted to cover her face and her embarrassment but the tinge of intensity of their touch made them look at each other's eyes.

Cold yet warm, she let go of his hand and tried to form herself with her best stance.

So cold, so unreal. For the fact that she first let go was strange and a handsome guy he is, he was skeptical. Ages ago, nymphs would stand by him and told him words of pleasantries and stuff. But this girl, this pretty lady is so strange.

Her coldness, her literal coldness was off. She wasn't like the others. Of course, he wouldn't know the warmth of others, but she's so unusual.

"We should get going."

"Yeah."

They both made their step on some unknown path, hoping they could get out of the mountain full of snow.

Jack would steal glances at his glowing companion. She's either avoiding his stare or think of something deep within her own thoughts. But mostly, she would stop in her track and her body would gasp as if she were to see a ghost, then shaking her head for an unknown reassurance.

But that's not all, Jack thought. After her wondering, she would touch her lips and quietly utter tacit words.

She was truly an unusual beauty.

* * *

She was rummaging through her drawer. If winter wasn't around, rain of sweat would be pouring down on her face. The sound of knocking caused her to look at the concealed door.

She groaned in annoyance.

Mondays wasn't really her 'thing' and the lack of news of her brothers' disappearance was a lot to keep her mind off bay. She opened the door and hopelessly wished she's NOT having her shittiest bad hair day ever.

"Officer Third."

"Miss Dùbron," She simply nodded her head at the man who's right hand holding a cup of Starbucks coffee. "Shall I come in?" No, she thought but really wanted to say it out loud in front of his face.

"Why?" she instead asked.

He wasn't stupid to notice her discomfort. You can already see the awareness of her actions by keeping herself close to the door and away from his whole existence like an incurable germ.

He smirked, "Oh nothing important Miss Dùbron. Just wanted to see how my neighbor is doing is all."

Her little mood broke out than expected, "Yeah, nothing important, like finding my brothers." and she didn't regret it saying out with her overall confident with a tinge of hiss.

He made a frown that destroyed his smile. He gripped the cup tightly but not too strong or else it might break and it will not be her whose head is boiling hot.

"We're doing everything we can. It's not just your little brothers, it's about every kid out there who's missing and we are really trying our best not to disappoint you like you are now. It's really hard for me that the scowl on your face really bugs the life out of me! I'm really trying to be nice here."

She was silent. And after that, she sighed heavily, "Then don't try." She eyed him and stepped up to his front, "I don't blame you."

He thought they're okay and no harsh feelings when she smiled up at him. And boy, he's mighty wrong.

It happened so fast that the door nearly slammed onto his face and the fast locking inside.

Her strong voice reached out to him outside closed door, "I blame Monday."

* * *

_Dark shadows..._

_Illuminating eyes..._

_Such dread..._

_Dark illusions..._


	7. Chapter 6

Lost in Paradise

_As much as I'd like the past not to exist_  
_It still does_  
_And as much as I'd like to feel like I belong here_  
_I'm just as scared as you_

* * *

The two widened their eyes with such amazement.

They're like two childhood friends inside their own Neverland. Elsa tugged Jack's hoodie and didn't hide her excitement when wowing. Jack hung his mouth a little open when the visual of a paradise lost inside their eyes.

They both moved towards the frozen trees which decorated with magnificent crystals, like diamonds. The ground was coated but with soft, elegant snow and with the sky? It made the place better than Elysian Fields.

"What is this place?" said the fascination in her voice.

"Never saw a place like this." He too, was astounded. The sharp, designated icicles reflected his face when he stared at them. Elsa was afraid to touch the crystals, afraid she might break them. Jack thought that the icicles and her was the same, both were beautiful and fragile.

"Never thought winter could be so-" He took a sharp inhale of breath, "Beautiful."

"Why?"

"Winter is dangerous. Sometimes it creates darkness. Sometimes happiness. But it shouldn't be mess with; winter is neither good nor evil." Jack knows it, more than anyone. Yes, he's a winter Spirit of fun but there's no denying that it is a powerful power, in malevolence when wrong hands has it. Elsa blankly stared at the tree, thinking of something deeper, biting her lips at the same time.

They remained like that for some minutes he couldn't count; her gazing with wonder at the tree and him gazing at her loveliness.

And it was peaceful.

"I've always had a notion that somehow it calms me, it feels perfect but deep down inside I've felt its peril and could harm you and everyone around you." Elsa brought up her hand around her, hugging herself, not with the cold but thinking the violence of ice and winter.

She stood there, motionless, then nodding her head at some inquisitions inside her mind. Mostly, she would smile sadly, and it gives him the shudder to think that this girl- this young lady would ever smile so melancholic. Somehow he thought she was breaking inside, the things she never did tell him and the comfort he never did gave.

He was happy to change her course.

Jack bowed down to meet the ground. He smelled the luscious scent of snow while cupping a handful of powder. Elsa wasn't aware; she had her own world.

Jack was eager to show her his world.

Smirking between striding, Jack took a large intake of air inside his lung and blowing it up on the powder of snow with flecks of dazzling magic, his magic.

He tossed it up in the air as if it would know its aim. Jack shouted as energetic he was, "Elsa!" and right on cue when the moment she turned around, the perfect snowball hit her perfect face.

Elsa was dumbstruck. She didn't know what it was, or why he did that, but she smiled. She then felt remembering being happy about something, she couldn't pinpoint exactly.

But she sure wasn't mad.

Her gut told her to do the same and so she did. Jack saw her reddening face from quite a far; she was steaming in the cold area. Was she mad? Jack could only gulp at the thought. He would apologize. Jack was surprised; he already started to move towards her. The scowl on her face deemed it that she's angry at him.

"Hey Els, I'm so-" The apology went unsaid as a cold powder of snow splashes its content on his face. He was speechless.

And with that, he surely heard something magical. Like he heard gentle laughter of an exalted angel of music. He was hypnotized by just hearing her jovial pleasure. It sounds so nice.

He wanted to make her laugh, to see her laugh, to be the reason of her laugh.

Until it could almost kill him, he would try.

Jack scooped up random snow powders and decide to let the fun begins.

All the hours they spent laughing and scooping and hitting, the smiles on their faces cannot be ridden.

Elsa was the first to surrender by plopping on the snow, exhaustion was her defeat.

Jack thought she was the perfect snow angel. The platinum locks did her justice when it surrounded her, almost the same color of the snow. She was the exact epitome of a winter Queen.

Her white dress shone in the night as well as her astounded hair. He could literally melt at the sight. Jack saw she was closing her eyes, reeling at the sensation.

As soon as she heard him plopped on the ground beside her, Elsa kept her eyes shut, "I haven't had fun like that, Thank you."

"Nah, 'twas nothing." he breathed, "Fun is kinda my function."

"To me it was nice, very nice, to actually feel happy, you know? It's like I don't need to fear myself."

"Why would you? Fear, I mean."

She first hesitated, finding her own words. "I'm afraid I might be myself."

Jack thought about it, thought it for too long. He wanted to ask her so much, but none release his mouth. Knowing her, Jack saw a beautiful light, but fear was surrounding her, darkening her. He glanced at her face; beautiful eyes were closed, lips were slightly parted and her steady up and down of her chest.

Elsa lingered peace, just for a lifetime, even for a moment.

She was slowly remembering yet memories had left major details. She was in a room, staring at the large window. Hands clasped against the glass and looking mournfully. Why?

Images from her unknown past only gives her parts of her sorrow self. Maybe she was sad all the time. No, Elsa thought, I will not be helpless and sad, not again.

The moment she opened her eyes, was the moment she tilted her head to look at him; he was staring at her.

Jack felt the nerve to blush as her eyes found his. Her sensual voice tingled his ears, "Jack?"

"Hmm?"

"I've got a question. Would you mind?"

"No, of course."

She moved closer to him and he would curse himself if he didn't like the idea. Their elbows touched and her hand found its way to his chest, "You don't have a heartbeat," Jack noticed this wasn't the question but a starter of it, Elsa was quizzical the moment she first let her head rest on his back earlier. There was no beat, no nothing. "At all. Who are you really?"

Jack shrugged nonchalantly, "I am Jack Frost. Bringer of snow, winter Spirit and Guardian of fun... But other than that, I'm just a young man trapped in an immortal life, with no family and no past to return to."

He's hurt, Elsa said to herself. She knew that agonizing feeling of wandering if someone did left her alone. She truly sympathize him, just as she sympathize herself. "I'm sorry."

"For what?" the puzzled look on his face.

"For asking."

"No harm done, really, being a Guardian is hella lots of fun. I got to play with children, and it's not that hard for them to play back."

"What do you mean?"

"There are believers who can see me."

"What if they don't?"

"Then they _don't_ believe."

"Oh." Jack sensed she was struggling to ask something, and then deciding it to put a halt. He knew it, he knew what it was and it's not really that offensive.

"I'm dead for as long as I can remember." he simply said.

"Is it hard?"

"At first. But seeing kids' happy faces lets you forget the pain, the memories."

"I would like to know my memory." She murmured.

"What?"

"Nothing. Hey look!" she suddenly pointed at the sky, "It's rather odd that the moon is gone for its nightly hour."

"Yeah, he's a mysterious man. Not a talker too."

"_He_? Is he a spirit too?"

"He's more than that. You see, He's the one to decide who should be this Guardian and who should be that Guardian. He knows whether you're good or evil. He's pretty awesome."

Elsa averted her eyes from her unknown stance to just look at him, "How would he know if that person is bad?"

"He just know."

"Tell me about the moon and the Guardians."

Jack grinned and clasped his hands together, "Well, you're in for a heck of a story!"

It felt like the time stopped for both of them.

Jack telling her stories and she was very engrossed by them; His misadventures before him knowing who he was, the plight of Bunny's summer of '86, Tooth Fairy's past was her being a princess turned to Queen, North's rebellious tummy and Sandy the mute is the most powerful besides than Tsar Lunar.

Elsa was nearly intrigued for Jack's late lost memories. An impossible conclusion reeled to her head, Maybe I'm a spirit myself. She laughed at herself for a foolish thought like that. Impossible! I'm definitely alive!

He didn't left any single details and even to some antagonists. "He wasn't that evil before."

"Really?"

Jack nodded, "He was a good man. Once had a family and he was a good father and a good commander."

"What happened?"

"They killed his wife, daughter went missing for a long time, he fought so hard to find her and they tricked him and BAM! He's gone to the dark side."

"It's tragic."

"All of us are."

Jack smiled wistfully and Elsa tried to comprehend it. She was left thinking; whatever did happen to me? Is it also tragic?

She never reminisces for she didn't have the memory for it and it pains her to feel so left out.

She was just so angry that no one even bothers to come and search for her. Her family! Her love ones! Anyone at all. "Jack?"

"Yeah?"

"This might sound mad but... You won't leave right? Uh, wait- it sounds preposterous, what I meant was, you're not going to leave me here, alone and forgotten?"

Jack raised his eyebrow and chuckled at her, "Yes, I'm not going to leave you alone. Besides I volunteered - not that I haven't any competition - to help you on your way to your own home and who would possibly forget a person like you?"

"My family?" Elsa silently said, although Jack heard it. He didn't ask nor planned to do so. Family was a very touchy subject.

But the tiny conclusion in his head was that she's probably a runaway girl, who felt very unwanted. But how could she ever be unwanted? Jack has no clue.

"How did you go to a place like this anyways?" He asked, now putting his arms behind his head like a pillow.

"Lost?" More of convincing the both of them.

"You know, I've got these little questions that still bug me, May I?"

"Sure."

"Do you not feel anything at all?"

"What is that supposed to mean?"

"The air, the snow, the raging winter; your dress, the absence of your shoes or any converse, the lack of shivering. DON'T YOU FEEL ANYTHING?"

Elsa was a bit taken by surprise, but never did show any rage or temper. "Sort of. I mean, the cold didn't bother me or hadn't bothered me, I guess I was just so used to it." Considering the hours I've spent there alone, "I might have felt something but cold hasn't entered in that zone."

"You sure have a corpulent tolerance of frigidity, I say. **WAIT!** THAT'S IT! Maybe you're from here?"

"What?"

"No, I mean, you're from this land! Maybe if we get out of this place we'll be able to find your home sooner."

Elsa thought about coming home. Will her family accept her? "I guess so," her eyes remained fixed on the stars blinking lights. Maybe the idea of coming home wasn't exciting anymore; maybe she fled, got an reclusive accident and lost some parts of her memory or maybe they did left her. Anything can happen. "I wish we could stay at this place." she added.

"Me too," He didn't even questioned her. And that made Elsa felt the warmth in her heart. If no one's ever gonna claim her, she would definitely claim herself. After all, she'd just stolen a name from somebody in her forgotten past, why not making new memories by it?

Elsa smirked to herself, _maybe I'd just do that, start living in my own way._


	8. Chapter 7

She tsked upon seeing wilted flowers in her path.

She brought her hands down but not touching them, and without a minute to pass she continues her way. Leaving the now restored flowers, displaying its beauty for anyone's beholder.

Her trusted cloud followed her and guarding her with her dear life, even though she perfectly knows that no one with their right mind would piss the Mother Nature, herself.

The sun is already setting down. It was only 4:30 and Mother Nature was clearly unaccustomed by the early out of the sun. The remaining lights covered her dark raven hair with glorious shine that matches her regal posture.

Slow walking through the forest was her liking to do every other day, or when she's not busy correcting human's failures preserving the world. The winds greeting with her hair and the feel of soft, moisten ground on her feet sent relaxing shivers down her spine.

She would rather spend her eternity there if it's possible.

But duty must come first.

She is a neutral woman. Never favoring the humans but little did bring harm around them. Well, there was a time of floods and disasters but she wasn't the very caused of it.

She wanted them to learn and to appreciate.

She would sit on some discarded log (The humans doing of cutting down trees) and often wonder of how can Tsar Lunar ever be so generous by giving them everything, when they do have a hole in their hearts? For them, it is never enough.

Mother Nature felt no loathing on humans but she does despite their air of vain and blood of destruction. Why can they just be at peace with their own kind?

Years, Centuries and Ages passed, the bloodshed of men and their hunger of it caused wars and sufferings. Mindless kings fought for power, soldiers for glory and war for death. Why don't they live a happy life and spent them with their loved ones and families?

Family, it was a sacred haven and she pities those who haven't. Including her.

The sudden gloom of the skies sent a single thunder that brought her back to herself. She loosens her grip on her own as her hands were curled in a raging fist.

She relaxed and let the darkening sky to soften and the stars shone lightly and with carefulness that it might lose its glimmer any seconds.

An exhale released from her breath and stared at her path before continuing to walk.

She held the helm of her flowing gown and steadied herself on some pebbles and tiny rocks.

She let her left foot to try the tempting appeal of the creek.

She was instantly soothes out by joining her other foot and the warmth yet cold sensation rushing through her. She closed both eyes.

_Happiness_

_Love_

_Death_

_Sorrow_

_Rage_

_Hate_

_Destructi-_

Emerald eyes flew open as she listened to that particular sound; the unsynchronized sound of branches breaking in an instant.

She could feel it. Then again, and again, and again.

Till it ache her heart.

She furiously listened to where the sounds are coming from. She could not take it.

She whipped her head to a direction of a shadow casts upon the ground. She was striding, but never touching the ground. The wind elevated her; the cloud gave her passage and the gloom shrouded around her. She would let them know she's the Mother Nature.

She hid behind a willow tree and squinted her eyes to see the convict.

Shadows emerging, until little by little it got smaller as bodies of human came to her view.

Children! They were three of them: One was short and pudgy with his golden locks, the girl with a bonnet; and presumably the leader with his red hair framed his angular face filled with freckles.

Children, but human nonetheless.

She calmed down. She couldn't let innocent children suffer from her wrath.

Whatever are they doing in a forest on a dark night?

Children shall be children, she remembered her being wild and her mother would fret over her absence and would punish her by not letting her eat dessert. She would rather play outside and get mud on her pretty white dress than sit still and listen to her dull lessons of handling a cup of tea.

But now, she longed for it. She missed her teacher for she was her beloved mother.

She looked at them, curiously, and wondered to herself, why are they heading to the murky, desolated part of her forest?

She continued her peaceful walk.

* * *

Pity with no remorse...

Unchanging...

Unbroken...

Blessed with a Curse...


	9. Chapter 8

Farther Away

_Try to forget you,_  
_But without you I feel nothing._  
_Don't leave me here, by myself._  
_I can't breathe._  
_I run to you,_

* * *

"What?"

"No, No, wait!"

"Give me my glove!"

"Please! Please! I can't live like this anymore."

"Then leave."

"What did I ever do to you?!"

"Enough,"

"No! Why? Why do you shut me out? Why do you shut the world out? WHAT ARE YOU SO AFRAID OF?!"

"I said, enough!"

"ELSA!" She jolted out with a panicked look in her eyes. The first thing she saw was Jack, leaning to her and very much close, not that she mind. She was Reaching for air as she held her head to get rid of the dizziness in her vision.

"Just a dream."

"Are you kidding? You were pretty hectic. Are you okay?" said he, supporting her to sit up.

"Yes, just a bit dazed."

"No, are you seriously okay? Because your terrified look proved me earlier that it's not." eyeing her earnestly with so much worry that she was about to forget her unusual dream. Elsa smiled up at him and patted his hand.

"Yes, I'm fine. I often dream vividly and foggy at the same time, sometimes the effects don't always rub off on me. They're weird at times but mostly blank, so don't you trouble yourself okay? Because I'm mostly fine with adversities of sorts." Elsa spared him the details of the night she first having peculiar dreams that led to her many sleepless nights. When fear resides inside her heart without anyone to be there for her, it was a nice feeling that someone actually cared.

His face remained serious with his eyebrows knitted together, "That wasn't a dream, Elsa, and I think it's a nightmare. You were sweating, yes, but with cold sweat. You were talking in your sleep-"

"I'm a bit of somniloquist." Elsa's cheeks were tainted with playful blush. However Jack was impassive neither did flinch.

"At first. Then you started screaming. Words flowing from your mouth with anger and a different language, but you're literally screaming!" Jack stared at her face that now filled with shock and impulse."You're like screaming at someone, like a heavy argument."

He set his coffee mug down and relished the aftertaste of bitter cappuccino.

He was working night shift again for 1 week straight and his companion was the bag under his eyes, and of course his trusty Dreki, tirelessly chewing a sandal (He wasn't sure who own it, but the absurd design reflects Rhonda)

"Come here, boy!" At his command, Dreki looked at him dully and continued chewing. He chuckled and wondered if Dreki couldn't smell Rhonda's wash-free foot.

He couldn't honestly think that this Alopekis could have a huge impact on his life. He remembered last year, the gang spotted an illegal clubhouse and upon raiding it, saw tons of butchered purebred dogs. It was all bloody.

They caught the smugglers and he caught the last remaining dog, whose tail was broken prior to a stray bullet. He took him to his home to nurse him back to health and suddenly named him Dreki. He had some other names like Gummy and Toothless; a trait when Dreki would lick his nose and you could see his gums believing he's toothless.

Last month, an unwanted burglar snooped in; unfortunately Dreki was having his nightly rolls hoping to find any things to munch on. Luckily he spotted a masked man. Officer Third was awoken by a scarred noise, a flashlight on his left and his gun on the right.

He was truly shocked (And amused) to see Dreki nearly pulling out the man's leg.

Gunther laughed nasally and ghastly as could, exclaiming loudly "YER FELINE 'S AH GREYT AHN, YA?!" He clapped Third's back, he could felt it breaking,"TIS DA AHNHOLY OPSPRING OF LAHYT AN' DETH 'TSELF." The pure Scottish man laughed. Third could only flinch in pain.

Officer Third checked the folders laid out in front of him. He tried to shake the burn in his eyes yet still not regretting his 4 hours sleep.

The door knob rattled and shook as his colleague, Fred, came to his view.

"Boss, I've go-"

"I've told you too many times to stop calling me _that_." Third grunted.

"It's weird if I call you by your name. Besides you're my boss, people here would think I'm disrespecting the chief." He casually said, stepping inside the office and shutting the door.

Third merely shrugged; he didn't like the special treatment just because he was currently exalted. People should still remember the late chief, Stu. A brave man, Third did not believe he died of a shootout, but died standing up for what is right. Third coughed, dismissing the heavy feeling on his chest, "Just stop calling me that. I'd much rather be called Hiccup. So what are your reports?" huh, Hiccup, he didn't utter that name since High School. Didn't even hear it from the foul mouth of his cousin since he was granted to be the Chief.

"Alright, if I'm calling you Hiccup, does that mean you're calling me Fishlegs? No, just no. Here are the folders of the investigation. You might found it important." Before Fred gave them up, he eyed Third carefully. "Didn't sleep well?"

"Having insomnia."

"Is it about the children?" he looked at him sheepishly, "Or the redhead?"

"WHAT?" Third nearly choked by an invisible clog inside his throat.

"You heard me. I haven't seen her since...Tuesday!"

"So?"

"I notice you running in the hall then stopping by the mirror before skittishly going to her."

"Is it bad if I want to look presentable?"

"Henri, Steven only uses that mirror, remember? Your airnog of a cousin spent his half hour on his features he brags about." Fred scoffed then realizing his mistake, "_Boss_."

Henri Third smirked, "Still doesn't prove I adore that girl. One thing for sure is that she hates me, like literally; she's very much upset on their disappearance. It's not like they're gonna pop up and says 'Hello, We went missing but we're cool.' I mean, It's not my fault they're gone and she's like blame Mon-"

"That's my point; the last time you prattled was the day you and Ari broke up. I don't know why you like corrosive girls, not that it's bad, but still."

"Now you're being offensive. It's...well... nevermind."

Fred pumped his fist way up high for his victorious argument. Knowing this time he'd won, there was no point of pushing Third's irritation. He opened the door but before closing it Henri shouted, "I DON'T LIKE HER. GIRLS ARE CRAZY! AND THAT WOMAN IS MAD!"

* * *

She was inhaling the bittersweet petrichor.

Her arms were wide open, like waiting for an everlasting embrace, she was feeling them all.

The fragrant scent of pine Woods and summer air tickled her nostril. The soggy grass on her feet sent her connection to their roots. She wondered if there's such thing as miraculous as these.

She needn't her sight just to see the beautiful surroundings, she all need is to feel, it is much more than seeing.

Just then a tiny rain drops on her forehead, then on her shoulder, then on her elbows. She was favoring the sensation of the cold pelt of slow rain. Her hair was still damp from the earlier rain, and now she was making one.

Then she felt coldness; not from the rain. She didn't mind the sudden change of temperature, at first, but then the raindrops felt heavy and cold.

It hit her on her forehead, then on her shoulder blades, then on her palms.

Hailstones.

She opened her eyes in shock.

There couldn't be any hailstones dropping from the sky. It's Boquete, Panama! For Pete's sake!

She held the cold marbled stone, it couldn't be. Now the rain stopped, but a series of hailstones was thrown from the sky. Hitting her delicate head. The clouds shrouded above her, to protect her from the dangerous pelts.

She was angry.

No one messes with her nature. NO ONE.

The sky had known her outrage and the hailstorm ceased. As if fearing for her immense wrath.

She knew someone who has the ability to control ice and winter.

**_You will pay, Jack Frost._**

* * *

"Jack, I'm sure it's nothing okay? I'm a sleep talker and we can't have good dreams all the time. I can't even remember what happened."

Jack calmed in front of her eyes. But inside his mind, he knows something is wrong.

Like the meaning of her eyes, something is hidden and kept locked. He just doesn't know what.

His attention was on her, only her.

She always wore her smile but never successfully hid her sadness. Why would she be sad? Is something on her mind that he couldn't possibly know?

Who are you, really?

"I'm sorry?"

"What?"

"You said something?"

"No?" Elsa was confused. What was he talking about? He was staring at her then now questioning her. She hadn't said a word, she was lost in the moment between his priceless gaze.

"You didn't say anything?"

"What would I say?"

He was quiet for sometime then voluntarily stood up, "Don't you hear it?"

"Hear what?"

Jack helped her stand up and brought his finger to his lips, "Just listen."

* * *

_Drowning..._

_Scalding..._

_Burning..._

_Choking..._

_Freezing..._


End file.
